The Ache of Loss
by LDSDrumlinegurl
Summary: Based on 2016 movie "The Legend of Tarzan." What happened when Jane lost the baby? This is my take on the loss of their son. One-shot.


The Ache of Loss

John Clayton III looked up from his papers. His head ached from trying to comprehend the massive numbers and lists of upcoming events. His fingers ached, their muscles still not quite used to writing so frequently. Another puff of breath in front of his face made him realize just how cold the office he was in was. Turning, he groaned. The fire had gone out again. He wasn't used to the cold bitterness of England. Sighing, he stood. Placing more logs on the fire, he quickly relit it. Sitting back at his desk he stared down at his papers.

The papers held no appeal to him. As the years passed he had hoped that life at Greystoke Manor would become more like home. It was the only thing left of his father, and his mother. It was a legacy they wanted for him. He couldn't let them down, not after they gave their life for him. Besides, home was where Jane was.

Jane. Just the thought of his wife made his heart beat faster, his body warmed. The thought of her smile and the soft, blonde ringlets brought happiness back into his mind. She had tamed the man, Tarzan. She had given him hope and understanding in a time and place where only confusion and pain lingered. Pushing his papers aside, he stood to go find the woman who was giving him life.

Jane held back the urge to roll her eyes as Mrs. Cartwright tutted around her. If she had to hear one more, "Oh you poor dear" she was going to go insane. The rounded housemaid thought it was necessary to take pity on Lady Jane Clayton who not only was an American, but had been raised in the "unadulterated wilds of Africa!". The room she called hers and John's was warmer, but the rain that poured against the window in a torrential downpour left her heart aching for Africa.

Glancing down at said heart she couldn't help but wince, her breasts didn't like the aching the corsets of England caused either. Running her hand down said corset, she deftly tried to loosen the cord in the front. The corset she was wearing was a shorter one she was used to, but that was to be expected when she began to put on weight and show.

Jane was five months pregnant. Her smaller frame was unaccustomed to the extra weight her child provided, but she was determined to give her John a son. She thought of her husband as her hand made its way to her rounded abdomen. Telling her husband she was pregnant was one of the first times she had seem him smile in the months leading up to the discovery. Rainy England had wasted no time in sucking the warmth from his face and his eyes. He seemed to reserve the warmth she had fell in love with for her, showing it to in private heated glances.

"Doesn't do good to fiddle, dear, although, that corset is doing wonders for your figure." Mrs. Cartwright's insistence brought her from her thoughts. She tugged on her corset once more before a sharp pain made its way up her back. Jane gasped, her body bending over. The older woman looked at her, her eyes questioning.

"You alright Lady Clayton?" Jane looked up at the woman, the pain subsiding. For the past night she had had small pains, but figured it was just the corset. She waved her hand, shushing Mrs. Cartwright's worries.

"I'm fine. Just the weight of the baby against my back." Mrs. Cartwright nodded at her insistence.

"If you are sure…" Jane nodded her affirmation. The light in the window was fading, showing how late it actually was. John must have gotten taken away with has papers. She tried to help him as much as she could, but he was insistent that it was his duty. She smiled, his love and care for her was timeless and constant. Whether he was doing papers and managing his father's estate, or hunting fish with his bare hands - he had always provided for her.

Mrs. Cartwright hummed as she turned down the bed and drew the curtains closed. As she finished her nightly duties Jane began to put away the letter she had been writing. A friend she had grew up with in the village had written her again, inquiring about the baby. Jane had been thrilled to know that the supplies she had secretly shipped to them had gotten there.

It wasn't like John hated his life in Africa, she had just watched him put all of their stuff from Africa into storage. It was almost as if he was trying to forget his past. She knew he was trying to do his father proud, but hated that she couldn't talk to him anymore about where they grew up.

Before she could get the letter completely in her letter box, the door to their room opened. John stepped in, his large frame barely fitting through the door built for smaller people of the past. She looked at him in surprise. John usually came in when she had already made herself ready for bed. It had become their nightly ritual.

"Oh! Lord Clayton. We were not expecting you so soon. I'll hurry and get Lady Clayton ready for bed and leave you for the night." Mrs. Cartwright stammered. She blushed bright red before moving closer to Jane, her hand outstretched.

"I'll tend to my wife tonight, Mrs. Cartwright. Please enjoy the rest of your evening." John's deep timber voice filled the room. Jane shivered. Mrs. Cartwright could only nod before scurrying from the room and shutting the door behind her with a resounding thud. The servants around the house still had not become quite used to John. It had been years, and many like Mrs. Cartwright were still scared of him. She didn't blame then. Although he was a teddy bear for her, he could be quite the imposing figure.

"John…" She began. Her eyes moved to him. He was looking at her, his eyes bright and full of so much love and passion she could still scarcely believe it was directed at her. He began to move, his body moving in the quiet lithe ways she had first seen in the jungle. He was the Jaguar, she was his prey.

Her body began to ache for him in a familiar way. Turning to finish putting her letter away, she suddenly felt his warm breath on the back of her neck. Large, warm arms pulled her backward into a chest that seemed to curl down into her. His arms caged her as his hands covered her growing abdomen in the very same protective manner his arms held her.

"John…" she began again as his lips touched the side of her head.

"I've missed you." The growl that was his words nearly made her knees buckle. After three years of marriage he still had the ability to make her swoon into his arms. However, once his words managed to unscramble themselves in her mind, she was understandably angry. She was tired, and very, very pregnant. She missed him too. Since moving to England, his "responsibility" and "place in society" was not to spend every day with his wife, but to manage the vastness of Greystoke. Society told him that wives were not to be enjoyed, but to be seen.

"We have been in the same house all day John." Her words made him stop. This had been a frequent argument since they had arrived in England.

"You know I cannot spend all my time with you. I need to run over the budget for next year, there are still repairs needed in certain parts of Greystoke, people need to be hired…." Jane's glare cut him short

"You have been managing your father's estate well, John. There are people who can do that for you! I just want to see my husband more than at breakfast and before I go to bed! I do not even see you at dinner anymore!" Jane's voice rose. John pulled his arms from her. She felt their absence immediately.

"It's not proper to spend all day with you, Jane! As a woman of society you should know that!" His voice rose over hers. If there is one thing the Clayton's were good at, it was yelling over each other.

"Damn society, John! I do not care about Society! I care about you!" She yelled at him. His eyes flashed angrily. The growl that followed was one that belonged in the jungles of Africa.

"You are Lady Clayton! I am Lord John Clayton III, this is MY father's legacy for me!"

"I am Jane! You are John! I love YOU, not your father's legacy!" She roared back at him. He took a step forward her, both of their eyes flashing.

A shot of pain ran up Jane's back. She gasped, bending over much like she had with Mrs. Cartwright. For a moment, she thought it would pass much like the other pains had stopped. It didn't. The pain grew and seemed to shoot through her back and abdomen. Her knees buckled.

"Jane?" John rushed forward. His anger forgotten as panic welled up within him. He caught her in his arms before she could hit the floor. Her face was scrunched in pain as he turned her in his arms. He held her closer, his eyes looking over and around the room for an unknown assailant.

"Jane!" His voice rose again, this time in fear. She looked up at him, her eyes full of pain and fear. She pushed her hands on her abdomen before looking down. Blood began to stain the cream colored skirt that covered his legs. She looked up at him, fear blossoming in her heart. An unknown knowledge began to beat at her, some primal part that knew something was wrong with her son.

"John! The baby!" The pain grew again in strength. Her back arched as she tried to beat back the black spots beating at her vision. She couldn't go to sleep, she had to fight for her son, for her husband. This was the miracle that would bring warmth back to their lives.

"Mrs. Cartwright! Someone help!" John yelled, his voice breaking as he looked down at his wife helplessly. She looked up at him, her eyes drooping. He watched in horror as her blue eyes were hidden from his view.

"No! Jane, look at me! Look at me! Stay with me, love." She seemed to obey his words for a moment before her head drooped in front of him. He roared, his body aching to fight whatever was ailing her and their child. He couldn't fight it, it was invisible to him. His Jane was fighting on her own. That fact alone made him go cold. His Jane was alone. He had yelled at her, he had left her and their child alone. He had failed.

The room became a blur of action as he stared down at his wife. People rushed into the room at his yells, but he paid them no mind. Jane, his Jane was injured. His body reverted back into the jungle. The room fell away as the sound of the jungle filled his mind. John was gone. John had failed. Tarzan looked down at his mate. Her skin was pale and pasty. Dark circles he had failed to notice depicted the strain Jane must have been bearing on her own. His hands shook as he held her. John and Tarzan had both failed their Jane.

Jane stared at the wall. The house was quiet, too quiet. Mrs. Cartwright had left Jane alone after the doctor had given Jane the news that morning. He must have told John by now. She had failed him just as she had failed her son. Her son. The ache of her loss nearly crippled her again. She couldn't protect her son, even though it was her job to protect him. It was her job to make sure he got to see his father, and she had failed.

The door to the bedroom opened. She didn't turn to see who it was. She knew it was John. Only John walked so quietly and surely. John stood for a moment by the foot of the bed, looking down at the small form of his wife where she lay. Relief and pain filled his veins as he watched her, he knew she was awake. Before moving around the bed he pulled his shoes off. He slowly got into bed beside her, moving to rest right behind her.

John slowly pulled his small wife into his arms. She didn't resist him, she didn't make any noises at all. Her silence worried him. Remembering how close he was to losing her, he pulled her closer into his arms, wrapping them securely around her before placing his cheek nearly on the top of hers. His body enveloped her in his warmth, as if to chase away the pain she was feeling. He knew now that he couldn't protect her from everything.

They laid there for a while, the silence only broken by the sound of their breathing together. John closed his eyes. How could he comfort his wife? What was he supposed to say? What could he do to make this better? John and his wilder counterpart, Tarzan couldn't think of anything to say. So they just held her.

His hands began to run through down her body, rubbing soothing circles on her arms and moving to cup her abdomen. The touch of his hands on her abdomen made her gasp, pain shooting through to her heart. This wasn't pain like the night before. This ache filled her heart making known a whole where her son had been.

John pulled back, thinking he had hurt her. Jane shook her head, grasping his large hands in hers. Her body finally beginning to shake as sobs overtook her body. He turned her quickly, pulling her head into his chest as he sought to sooth her pain. Tears ran down his cheeks as his own ache of loss struck him.

"I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry I failed you." Her words shocked him. He pulled her back, running his hands through her hair.

"Sweetheart, it is I who failed you. I should have been there, I shouldn't have yelled at you. I am so sorry for leaving you alone." His voice broke. She pulled him against her. They clung to each other, her body molding as it sought to take comfort in her large man. He acted instinctively. He gave her the comfort and protection she offered as he curled his body around her. His arms wrapped around her, as they lay there together. The ache of loss still deep in their hearts, but the hope of the future now a seedling preparing to grow.


End file.
